He was deeply aware of Burgundy. Eager as he was for the Duke’s friendship he was delighted because of the conflict between Burgundy and the King and the Dauphin. He wanted to keep that going.
Burgundy knew too well what was going on in Henry’s mind and determined to exploit it to the full. What he wanted was to enlarge his possessions, and he decided he might come to private terms with the English. He might be their ally – even against the French. Why not? The Burgundians were waging battle against the Armagnacs. At the same time he did not want Henry to think he would be a willing ally. He would have to be presented with advantages if he was going to join the English. And how could that be – a Burgundian fighting with the English to take the crown of France from the reigning French house!
At the conference Burgundy was extremely cold to Henry. Henry did not mind. He understood exactly where Burgundy’s thoughts were leading him.
They had refused his terms. They had refused to allow him to see Katherine again.
‘We want you to know, cousin,’ he said to Burgundy, ‘that we will have the King’s daughter and all that we have demanded with her. Otherwise we will thrust the King out of his Kingdom, and you too, my lord Duke.’
Burgundy had looked at him cynically and replied: ‘You speak as you will, sir. But before thrusting my lord King and myself from the Kingdom you will have to do what will tire you so much that you will be hard put to it to keep your hold on your own island.’
Henry bore the Duke no animosity. Of course he spoke in that manner. Of course he could not hope for an open alliance between them. It was true too that if he must go on fighting in France he would impoverish his own country. At this time he was flushed with victory and his people applauded their great King whose genius had brought him many conquests; but such conquests had to be paid for … with taxes … and still worse the blood of his soldiers.
Burgundy was right.
One day, Henry was thinking, he and I shall stand together. He is the only man in France that I would wish to be my ally.
Isabeau took a hand after that. She had made sure that she had charge of her daughter when she had seen that she was to be the best bargaining counter the French could hope for. The King was by then in one of his dark moods and shut away from the country. Very soon after that Katherine and Henry had been married.
Then there happened that incident which made Philip of Burgundy the enemy of the Dauphin of France and turned him towards the English with an enthusiasm which his father had never shown.
It was decided among the followers of the Dauphin that he and the Duke of Burgundy must settle their differences and in order that this should be so there must be a meeting between them.
The country was overrun by the English; there must be an end to this conflict within.
Messengers from the Dauphin came to the Duke to tell him that the Dauphin was now staying close to Montereau and if the Duke would come there the meeting would be arranged. Some of the Duke’s friends were against the meeting. It seems so strange they said. Why should you not meet the Dauphin at Court?
The Duke shrugged aside their apprehension and he went ahead with preparations for the meeting. He discussed it with his son Philip who would be pleased to see peace between their House and that of the King for the sake of his wife. He was devoted to Michelle. He had often remarked to his father that the royal princesses seemed of a different calibre when compared with the mad King and his vacillating son.
‘I hope you achieve peace, sir,’ he said. ‘Michelle gets very upset about this conflict. She would be so happy if you were on friendly terms with her brother.’
‘Michelle is right,’ said Duke John. ‘We should be standing together against the English.’
So Duke John had set out for Montereau and there it was agreed that the Duke and the Dauphin should approach each other from either end of the Montereau bridge and each of them should take with him ten men-at-arms.
In the centre of the bridge, the Dauphin and the Duke came face to face. Duke John doffed his hat and bowed low. ‘My lord,’ said the Duke, ‘it is my duty to serve you first in the land after God. I have come to offer you service.’
‘You speak fair words,’ replied the Dauphin. ‘None, I believe, speaks fair words better. You have long delayed coming to us.’
‘Indeed I have,’ replied the Duke. ‘And now I wonder why we are here, for nothing can be settled save in the presence of your father the King.’
‘The King will be content with what I do,’ replied the Dauphin. ‘There is one point I would take up with you, lord Duke. You are over friendly with our enemies the English and therefore have shown yourself to be lacking in duty to the crown of France.’
‘I did what I believe to be my duty,’ insisted the Duke.
‘You have failed in your duty,’ cried the Dauphin.
‘That is a lie.’
One of the men on the bridge shouted: ‘Vengeance for the death of Orléans.’
The Duke turned and saw the axe a second before it struck him.
‘A trap,’ he murmured as he sank to the ground. ‘Betrayal …’
They were standing over him, their swords drawn. There were many who wanted to avenge the murder of the Duke of Orléans. It was twelve years since it happened but it had rankled ever since. It had been at the very heart of the hatred of the Orléans faction for that of Burgundy. Now the man who had instigated that murder had become a victim himself.
When the news was brought to Philip he was stunned. His great and powerful father done to death on a bridge after having been lured to a meeting with the Dauphin, and there foully murdered.
He listened to the account of what had happened with black hatred in his heart.
‘They stripped him of his garments, my lord,’ he was told, ‘and planned to throw his body into the river.’
Philip clenched his fists in anger. They should pay for this. Curse the Armagnacs! Curse the Orléanists! Curse the Dauphin!
‘They were stopped doing this, my lord Duke,’ he was told. ‘One of the citizens of Montereau intervened. He put on the Duke’s shirt and breeches and took him to the church at Notre Dame.’
‘Curse, curse, curse them!’ cried the Duke.
The only way in which he could bear his sorrow was by feeding his anger.
Michelle, hearing the messenger leave and realising that he had brought ill news, went to her husband.
She stared at him in horror and he burst out: ‘Your brother has killed my father.’
‘No.’ Her hand went to her lips. She was trembling.
‘He lured him to his death. They were to talk of peace and when my father arrived they fell on him and murdered him.’
‘Charles … not Charles,’ she murmured.
‘Yes, Charles, our poor ineffectual Dauphin … All he is fit for is to stab brave men in the back.’
She turned away and buried her face in her hands.
He laid his hand on her shoulders. ‘Michelle,’ he said, ‘I hate your brother. Strange that I should love his sister.’
‘But this …’ she said.
He drew her to him and held her tightly. ‘Even this … makes no difference. I despise your father. I hate your brother … but I love you, Michelle.’
‘Then,’ she said, ‘we can face whatever is coming.’
He nodded. He held her against him that she might not see the desire for revenge in his eyes.
The Dauphin must not be allowed to think that he could treat Burgundy thus. Oh, Burgundy had murdered Orléans, yes. He knew. Burgundy had removed that lecherous cheat who leaped into the Queen’s bed as soon as the King was sent to the Hôtel de St Pol, who diverted the King’s exchequer into his own coffers, who made no effort to rule though he had been made Regent at the request of the Queen on whom at that time the King doted. It had been an act of service to the state to remove Orléans. Orléans and his mistress the Queen had put the children away in the Hôtel de St Pol where they lived like denizens of the stews of Paris … his own gentle Michelle, Katherine Queen of England and Marie now in her convent. Oh yes, his father had done his duty to the nation when he had caused Orléans to be removed.